Claimed By The Biker King
I was still trembling, aftershocks rolling through me, when Marcus pulled me up gently and kissed me slow and deep.
“Oh no, babydoll,” he murmured against my lips, voice dark. “You’re not finished. I want to fuck that pretty little mouth.”
He stroked my cheek, thumb brushing my swollen lips. “Don’t worry—I’ll be gentle because of the piercings.”
I nodded, dazed and needy, sliding off the desk onto my knees between his legs. Marcus guided the pierced head past my lips. The cool metal bars dragged along my tongue as he pushed deeper, careful but insistent, filling my mouth inch by inch.